Annalea, Princess of Nemusmar

  ~~

  Several weeks then passed in preparation for the changes that would take place. There were two bodies that now met, daily. The first–the council–continued the program set for it by the captain, 'though now, with the knowledge that they'd soon be on their own. To reinforce this–and enable them the sooner to put this into practice–the captain absented hisself, meself and some of the others, from their daily meetings, leaving Higgins in charge, and providing decreasing oversight of their processes.

  The second body to assemble daily included those who'd be involved in our next, great adventure. 'Course, by now, our lot viewed anything the captain described as a "next, great adventure," with "great" trepidation! 'Twas surprising to me, at first, to find how many of our compatriots were quite willing to forego the adventurous life of yore. No doubt, recent events played heavily in easing this transition of the mind: from fighter to farmer, from marauder to merchant, from "pirate" to "pilgrim."

  Them as were still reluctant to part ways, were informed by the captain–in no uncertain terms–that if they'd not already been selected for the ship, they were intended for the shore. Their only other option was to be put ashore elsewhere, by Higgins–at his convenience. Higgins would command the ketch being left behind to service the new "settlers."

  Most begrudgingly, the captain made some alterations to the ship's list. Of course, Annalea and I were now included; and naturally, Mam' Tiére would not be parted from her precious "princess." The captain must have Orke on board, and Orke must have Reena. 'Though the captain had considered her as replacement for Mam', 'twas most obvious Leona would fill that post.

  Catching the captain at an off moment, he even allowed for the sisters to join us, "For your pleasure and amusement, Crockett," he told me.

  And, of course, there'd be Estaban. No more disguised as the doubtful "Thomas," he was returned to the elegant garments in which he first arrived on Nemusmar. He was noticeably the most excited and enthusiastic of our lot, regarding this anticipated voyage. Finally–all preparations completed, all farewells spaken, the day and time for departure had arrived.

  We were most all prepared to shove off. But one thing detained us–the one thing that remained undone: the requisite address to the people, from the captain. Me only concern was that he complete his sermon afore the tide changed! In fact, his brevity amazed me, and near caught me unprepared to leave on time!

  "Dear friends. I address you for the last time as your captain; 'though with God's favour, our paths will cross again and again–throughout this life. I cannot help but feel I leave you with some disappointment; for over the many, happy years we spent in community, I made many claims to provide for your future welfare–and many promises which, presently, I cannot honour. I am not done with you. I am not done being involved with you. I am not done being involved in your lives. I am not deserting you. But I am not making further promises. I would not presume to bolster new hopes–which may prove illusory–afore fulfilling commitments of old.

  "You shall all be in me prayers, and in those of this company. May I hope that we shall be remembered in yours. Since this is not goodbye, I shall not say the word. I shall simply bid you adieux."

  Being practically in a snooze, his abrupt ending jolted me into unprepared activity. I could not have imagined–at that moment–how apt was his use of language, in his parting words.

  Chapter XX

  Well Occupied